I Don't Know Why I Love You but I Do
by Mrs.GingerHinkley
Summary: Sequel to All is Confusing in Love and War now fixed so you'll get the whole story! Please R n R! Enjoy!this is a PG story with a slight hint of MAGness!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: **

"Well fine! Go ahead, see what I care!"

"Well if you are going to behave in such a ludicrous manor, I will!"

"I am not behaving in a ludicrous manor!"

"You don't even know what that means!"

"I do so! And if I were to behave in a ludicrous manor, it would only be because I've been wasting my time with you!"

"Well believe me; you won't be wasting your time with me anymore!"

"Well good! Because for the record, I never want to speak to you again as long as I live on this island!" Ginger stormed away angrily into MaryAnn's hut, slamming (if it was possible to slam a bamboo door fastened with bamboo hinges) the door behind her.

"What am I doing?!" Ginger exclaimed, "I don't live here anymore! Sorry MaryAnn; didn't mean to barge in!"

"Wait, Ginger!" MaryAnn called, hurrying out the door to catch up with her. "Hey, hold up. What's going on?"

Slowing down, Ginger clenched and unclenched her hands, still fuming, she explained, "Him."

"Him?" MaryAnn questioned further.

"Oh I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh come on. Seriously, what's the matter?"

Ginger did not reply so MaryAnn continued, "Not to seem nosy, but why were you and the Professor shouting at each other?"

"Well, if you really must know," Ginger began, smiling slightly, thankful for MaryAnn's concern, "I have no idea what we were fighting about. All I remember is that I was right; he was wrong, and I never want to speak to him again."

"Oh come on, it couldn't have been that bad."

"Believe me, it was horrible. I can't believe I've been such an idiot to like him! ERR!"

Ginger continued to rant on about hating the Professor and MaryAnn rolled her eyes, confident the bitterness would be ended in a short amount of time.

"Well, if you're alright, I've got to get back to my hut. Willy ought to be home by now."

"Okay, good night," Ginger replied. For the life of her, she would never get used to MaryAnn, or anyone for that matter, calling Gilligan Willy.

A chilly wind blew through the island the next morning as a possible premonition of a storm. Breakfast was served in an awkward atmosphere. Ginger was sitting next to MaryAnn, who was sitting next to Gilligan (or should I say Willy?), who was sitting next to Skipper, who was sitting next to the Professor, who sat beside Mr. Howell, who sat next to Mrs. Howell, who in turn sat next to Ginger. Needless to say, Ginger and the Professor were sitting as far apart as possible. The very few times they made eye-contact, they exchanged hateful glares.

The conversation was automatic and robotic and everyone was relived when breakfast was finished.

Later on in the day, perhaps two o'clock, a small storm did hit. Each castaway barricaded themselves in their huts to wait out its duration.

"I fold," the Professor announced, tossing his cards, discouraged, onto the small, wooden table.

Chuckling, the Skipper revealed a flush and collected his chips. "No offense Professor, but for being as smart a man as you are, you sure are lousy at poker."

"Yeah, well, chess is my game anyway. Besides, I think it has stopped raining."

"Yeah," the Skipper agreed, "Say… do you hear something?"

"Why, yes. It sounded like other people!"

They both stood up quickly and raced to the door, eager to greet their visitors.

"Oh look Dolly, huts!" an eager looking little boy of maybe nine exclaimed.

"Oh, my. I hope we didn't stumble upon some wild natives!" a slightly older girl whispered nervously.

"Oh don't be silly Dolly. And Charlie, don't you put ideas into your sister's head!" a woman of perhaps 40 addressed her children. Then, turning to a man of the same age who was obviously her husband, "Isn't that right Mark. There wouldn't be any wild natives, right?"

"Of course not Betty, but never the less; let's get back to the boat kids. We're going to run out of daylight in a few hours," his voice made it seem that he did indeed believe there were natives in the hut.

The family walked away from the hut when suddenly, hearing a voice, they froze in fright.

"Wait! Don't leave. We're marooned here!"

The family turned around to see two men hurrying towards them. The larger of the two spoke, "Hi, sorry to have alarmed you. We're the castaways from the S. S. Minnow. We're stranded here."

"Are you serious? I mean, almost monthly you're mentioned in the news, but of course, everyone thought you were, well, um dead."

"No, we've survived," the Professor answered.

"Um, weren't there seven or eight of you?" Betty asked timidly.

"Oh! It's not like that, all seven of us survived," the Skipper laughed jovially, "But I suppose we should introduce ourselves. I'm Skipper Jonas Grumby."

"And I'm Professor Roy Hinkley."

"How do you do?" Mark asked, shaking their hands. "I'm Mark Wandles. And this is my wife, Betty, and our two children; Dolly and Charlie."

"Hi kids!" Skipper said, smiling broadly.

"Hi sir," the kids mumbled shyly.

"Please, don't call me sir, it makes me feel old," he laughed, winking at them, "Call me Skipper."

"Okay, Skipper," they answered, a little less shy now.

"Well, why don't you round up everyone else and then we can sail back to the main land."

"That would be great! We'll go get them!"

No one could believe their ears as the Professor and Skipper told them the good news. After hastily packing their belongings, the castaways gathered down at the lagoon and prepared to bid their little island farewell.

"Um…" Mark began, awkwardly, "Our boat is um, pretty small, so um…"

"Oh, yes! I see what you mean. We can leave our luggage here, and come back to get it later," Skipper suggested.

After the suitcases had been returned to their owner's huts, the castaways and the Wandles' boarded the small, but sturdy boat.

"Are we really leaving…" Ginger asked no one in particular.

"I… I don't know… Let's see how I can mess this one up…" Gilligan laughed. "MaryAnn, why are you crying?"

"I don't know whether I'm happy or sad to finally be rescued!"

"Well MaryAnn, like another little Kansas farm-girl said; "There's no place like home," Mr. Howell said.

"Yeah, but where exactly is home…" MaryAnn asked.

They all stood in silence for a while pondering. Betty and Mark shifted uneasily, then Betty suggested, "Well, you can always uh, come back to visit."

"Yes, I suppose we will…" Mrs. Howell responded.

Mark Fired up the engine and the boat drifted away from the place they had called home for four memorable years…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

The weather stayed calm and pleasant for the remainder of the journey which took about two hours. To much relief of Mark and Betty, they found the group of castaways quite sociable. Dolly and Charlie also were enjoying themselves, taking turns playing checkers with Gilligan, who was telling the kids about his best friend, Skinny Mulligan.

Betty noticed that the group of seven seemed very close (except there seemed to be something amiss between the one they called the Professor and the movie star). She wondered how, though; they all were very different… How they would stay in touch she wondered.

Finally, Mark pulled the boat safely into the dock, and everyone exited.

"Is this for real… I mean… are we finally, home…"

"I don't know, the ground seems hard enough…"

"I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and this will be just another dream…"

But it wasn't a dream; they were actually back in civilization, finally home. Or perhaps, they weren't home at all… maybe, just maybe, they had left home…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

The next few weeks were filled with excitement and hype over the castaways' return to civilization. Everybody wanted to get in on the story, whether it was through interviews, photos, or what not. They traveled everywhere around the country, from LA to New York to Miami to Chicago to Denver to Dallas and then back to New York again, and everywhere in between. After what felt like a million interviews and appearances, they finally finished their last one and prepared to say good bye.

"Good bye Skipper."

"Good bye Ginger. Keep in touch," the Skipper said, hugging Ginger like good friends do.

"I'll try," she answered, kissing him on the cheek, friendly.

"Good bye Gilligan dear."

"Good bye Mrs. Howell," he answered, hugging her.

"Gilligan my boy, take care of MaryAnn," Mr. Howell ordered while he too hugged Gilligan.

"I'll do my best."

"Professor, well, thanks," the Skipper said.

"Whatever for?" he asked.

"Well, don't be modest now, why, if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have lasted quiet as long."

"Well Skipper, with your leadership skills and my knowledge, and everyone's good spirit, how could we not survive. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," the Skipper said, shaking the Professor's hand rigorously while slapping him on the back in a friendly way.

"Oh! Goodbye Ginger."

"Goodbye MaryAnn," Ginger said as they hugged goodbye.

"Promise to stay in touch?"

"Promise," she said after they exchanged numbers and addresses.

"Gilligan little buddy. Are you sure you can't stay in Hawaii?"

"Gee Skipper, I'm real sorry… but I'm married now and, well until MaryAnn and me decide where we're going to live, we're going to stay in Kansas."

"That's okay little buddy, I understand. But don't you forget for one minute how hard I'm going to have to work to get a new first mate!" he threatened, squeezing Gilligan in a bear hug that lifted the kid off his feet.

"Okay Skkkipperrr, but I c-can't bbbreath! Thanks," he said as Skipper released him, "I'll miss you too."

Ginger turned around from saying goodbye to Gilligan just as the Professor turned around from saying goodbye to Mr. Howell. They faced each other reluctantly, eyeing each other coolly.

"I believe the customary way will do," Ginger said, sticking out her hand.

"Yes, that will more than do," the Professor answered his voice mirrored the dislike and almost hostility that Ginger's had held.

Their hands touched for almost less then a second, then they turned away quickly.

Everyone finished their goodbyes, exchanging numbers and addresses (this of course, did not take place between Ginger and the Professor). They made their ways in different directions, going off to board different planes, where they would go back to their very different life styles…

MaryAnn and Gilligan drove back from the airport in a rental car into the small town of Horner's Corners Kansas. MaryAnn pointed various spots of interest and told Gilligan stories of her childhood. He listened curiously, telling himself he was the luckiest man in the world. As they neared town square (which was basically just that, a square with two stores on each corner), MaryAnn saw a banner over the street that read: _Welcome Home MaryAnn!_

She grinned happily, there certainly was no place like home; but she did still wonder where exactly home was. Maybe perhaps, she thought, someday she would find out.

"Uh… MaryAnn, where do I go now?" Gilligan asked as they approached a turn.

"Oh, sorry. Stay straight… okay, now turn right up by that red mail box," she directed. "Okay, now go down this dirt road for maybe two or three miles then we'll see my house."

After this distance was covered, a small but inviting white-wooden house loomed into view, between a red barn and fields that ran for miles. Gilligan had barely parked the car when MaryAnn jumped out and ran to greet her Aunt who was slowly making her way towards them.

"Oh Aunt Martha!" she cried happily.

"MaryAnn, how are you dear? George and I watched the interview you gave in Dallas, and of course all the others but…"

"Oh Aunt Martha, I must have been terrible," MaryAnn differed, blushing.

"Oh no dear, you were wonderful. Why the whole town was over at our house watching! Of course, that's not saying too much, but we don't have too much room and well..."

"Do you think you'd have room for another person?" she questioned as Gilligan arrived at her side. "Aunt Martha, I'd like you to meet my husband, Willy Gilligan." MaryAnn hadn't brought Gilligan or anyone else along when she'd made a quick visit home, days after their rescue.

"Why, it's very nice to meet you Mr. Willy Gilligan. Any friend of MaryAnn's is a friend of, MaryAnn! Did you say your HUSBAND?!" Martha shouted eagerly. She was a graying woman of probably 65 or so, about the same height as MaryAnn, with eyes that still held excitement and enthusiasm, even at her age.

"Yes, I did. We were married on the island. You see, the captain of a boat is allowed to marry people and since obviously there was a captain on the island, we decided to get married then and there; after all, we had no idea how long we might be stranded.

"Well, I… I'm speechless! Oh wait until George hears about this! He'll be delighted, of course he always liked dear Horas, but maybe you heard, he got married a while back. But oh! How exciting this is, why I remember the day George proposed…" Martha began a long reverie of her youth and when she'd finished, the three of them had unloaded luggage Gilligan had brought (which really wasn't too much) and were inside sitting at the kitchen table. "Oh my, how I do go on… but how long did you say you've been married?"

"Um, maybe, why, almost a year now!"

Gilligan nodded his head; he'd given that a bit of thought actually.

"Isn't that wonderful… But Willy, you must tell me all about yourself!"

"Um… well, I was born in a small town in Pennsylvania…" Gilligan began telling Martha about his life.

Meanwhile, MaryAnn excused herself from the table and made her way to her old bedroom. Everything was almost exactly the way it had been the day she left almost five years ago. The only thing she noticed that was significantly different was that on her bed there was a stack of newspaper clippings and other items paper clipped together. Curiously, she picked the stack up carefully and took the paper clip off. She gasped as she examined the first thing of the stack; it was the last picture she'd posed for with Aunt Martha and Uncle George before she'd left for her adventure. The next was a postcard she'd sent them when she was in Hawaii.

After that, there were quite a bit of articles concerning the shipwreck; one that was dated September 28, only two days after they'd been stranded, a lengthy one that interviewed the family of each castaway briefly. There were more than just several articles concerning people claiming to know where they were located, or who had claimed to have met them. She skimmed through some of these, most of the people she had never met on the island, but there was one from Ms. Erika Tiffany Smith, however, many were false. And finally, there were some interviews of the friends and family of each castaway.

After skimming through each article, MaryAnn walked out into the kitchen. Willy and Aunt Martha were still talking. "Oh MaryAnn, I was just telling Gilligan about the time…"

They all sat around and talked cheerfully. Around six, Aunt Martha started cooking up dinner. At the same time, a weathered looking farmer entered.

MaryAnn ran over and hugged him.

"Well MaryAnn, back again? How are you sweetie?"

"I'm, married."

"You're… married?"

"Yes, I am. Uncle George, are you alright?"

"I just can't believe… wow, I can't believe it, it seems like only just yesterday you were on my knee telling me you didn't ever want to get married because then you'd have to leave me… well. Is this the man?" he asked, indicating Gilligan.

"Yes, I'd like you to meet Willy Gilligan."

"Nice to meet you sir," Gilligan said as he shook Uncle George's worn hand.

"Son, if you're going to be my niece's husband, we need to have a talk," Uncle George said, slapping Gilligan on the back and leading him outside.

Meanwhile, MaryAnn helped Aunt Martha cook dinner.

A little while later, Willy and Uncle George reappeared and everyone sat down to eat dinner.

Afterwards they chatted happily until they grew tired. The next weeks flew by pleasantly; MaryAnn had picked up her job working at the Horner's Corner's General Store and Gilligan was working various odd jobs around town.

After work one day, MaryAnn was talking to Ginger on the phone.

"So, how are you?"

"Fine," Ginger replied, determined not to reveal that she wasn't feeling very fine at all. "How are you and Gilligan doing?"

"We're great. We're in Kansas; we aren't really sure yet where we'll end up finally settling down, so we're staying in my Aunt and Uncle's house. But seriously, are you sure you're alright?" MaryAnn asked in concern. She had the feeling Ginger wasn't being entirely honest.

"Oh yeah, I am. Apparently being marooned on an island for a few years is just what my career needed; lots of publicity. My agent is up to his ears in movie offers to sort through. So yeah, I really couldn't be doing better."

"Ginger, I didn't mean business or career wise," MaryAnn sighed, she had the feeling Ginger was still avoiding the question. "I mean, are you happy?"

"Why shouldn't I be happy?" Ginger asked, trying to sound genuinely confused.

"Well, um. Listen Ginger, I've only known you for four years, but I think I know you pretty well. You don't sound like your normal self." MaryAnn analyzed stubbornly. "You can tell me, is something the matter?"

"Well, um, nothing really is wrong. It's just…"

"Yeah," MaryAnn encouraged.  
"Oh, I don't know, I just… I don't know really, I've just felt a little… I guess sad; like something was taken out of my life and now there's a gap or something."

"Oh, I see," MaryAnn thought for just a moment before questioning uneasily, "Is it because of someone you used to like?"

"If you're referring to the Professor…" Ginger started irritably.

"No, not him in particular…" MaryAnn said hurriedly, not really wanting to get into an argument. "But… Um, is it… because of him?"

"Why in the heck would it be because of him?! I happen to hate his guts right now!" Ginger exclaimed, her voice quite more vexed then she would have liked it to sound.

"I'm sorry, don't get mad at me, I'm trying to help," MaryAnn defended herself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fly off the handle like that," Ginger apologized.

"That's alright."

"I don't know, I guess I just miss everyone… Well, almost everyone."

"Oh, well. I'm sure once you get working on a production, you'll be fine," MaryAnn said.

"I know. See you later."

"Okay, bye."

Ginger hung up the phone and thought about what MaryAnn had said. Could it really be that she still had feelings for the Professor? She brushed off the thought quickly; that thought was preposterous and impossible.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

A week later however, she wasn't so sure the prospect was so preposterous or impossible. She was still turning the idea around in her head. She was sitting in bed regretting going to sleep. Lately, nothing but nightmares had filled her dreams. Slowly, reluctantly, her eyelids closed…

_As she traveled through the dense fog, all realization sank in. She had to hurry home, before it was too late. Before he left…_

_She realized now that she loved him; she needed him more than she could ever imagine._

_As quickly as she could, she stumbled her way through the dark, dense fog._

_Finally, she reached her home. She swung open the heavy door and raced to find the only man she truly loved._

"_Roy, Roy!" she cried loudly before finding him in the parlor. She rushed over to embrace him. "Oh Roy, Roy, Roy. I love you. I realize it now, I can't survive without you… oh Roy, I love you!"_

_He stood, stubbing out his cigar. "I am leaving," he announced coldly._

"_But… but, Roy… Didn't you hear me?" Ginger asked in confusion, "I realize now, how much I really do love you. It's you I love! Please tell me you aren't serious about leaving!"_

"_I am very serious. You don't love me, you never have. So don't expect me to believe it now."_

"_But… it is true. You must believe me!"_

"_Goodbye, Ginger," Roy said, walking out of the parlor and into the hall._

_Ginger hurried after him. He stopped to pick up his suitcase. "But Roy, Roy," she pleaded desperately, "If you go, where should I go? What should I do?"_

_He stared into her eyes harshly then said firmly, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a Fishpie._

Ginger awoke with a start and realized she was crying. That was the fifth time she'd had that dream and each time the details were clearer and the pain sharper and more real.

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't possibly try to contact him; for one, she hadn't bothered to get his number or address and two, she was sure he didn't love her…

If she only knew how mistaken she was…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

A certain Roy Hinkley sat in bed holding his head in his hands in misery. Yet another restless night. The little sleep he had managed was full of nightmares.

Why was this happening to him?! He told himself he couldn't still love her. Why, the whole idea was preposterous! Yes, the best thing to do was to put her out of his mind completely.

He decided he would go on the research expedition the university had offered him. He would be so busy he wouldn't possibly have time to think of the past.

Besides, he had heard that Sarah Ainsworth would be going. Maybe being around a fellow professor who happened to be a woman was just what he needed.

"Come in," Ginger said as she heard someone knock on her dressing room door. "Oh, hi Brian," she addressed her good-looking co-star. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with thick, curly, chocolate-brown hair. The only trouble with his appearance, she thought to herself, was his eyes. She didn't really know what it was about them, they just were… cold, almost bitter.

"Hey," he said, sitting down on a small sofa.

"Did you need something?"

"Oh… I was just wondering if I could be so fortunate as to spend the evening out with the loveliest little redhead in all of Hollywood," he smiled a Clark Gable kind of smile.

"I think that would be swell," she replied. She figured this was as good away as any to forget about Roy. Or at least it was a start.

"Alright, I'll pick you up at six," he said. He winked, and then left.

Later that afternoon, Ginger was getting ready when the phone rang.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi Ginger!"

"Oh hi MaryAnn. How are you?" she asked, glad to hear from her friend.

"I'm great how are you?"

"Wonderful."

"Yeah, I heard about that movie you're filming, um, "The Reveries of Jackson Mc Brown" sounds like a big production."

"Yeah, it is pretty big. But how'd you hear about it? I didn't think you kept up with the Hollywood hype."

"Well, I didn't, before. But now that I know someone out there… might as well try. But anyway, the reason I'm calling is that Gilligan and I moved to Hawaii."

"To Hawaii? But MaryAnn, what about Kansas?"

"Well, I realize that home is where Willy is. We really didn't a home of our own and Skipper called up and said that he wasn't really using more than two rooms of his house and that we could use the upstairs and he could fix up the basement and live there. He really missed Gilligan, and well I thought Gilligan would be happier.

Sooo… anyway, we're living down in Hawaii. Willy's back to working with the Skipper and I'm working.

But I just wanted to give you our new number and address."

"Thanks, oh and. For the next month or so, I'll be on the east coast; filming on location. But I'll call you from there once I get a phone number in case anything important comes up."

They exchanged number then said goodbye.

A week later, Ginger was on the east coast. Filming location happened to be in a small farm town. After a day of shooting scenes, Brian came up to her and asked, "Still on for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, Simon's Seafood House, seven o'clock."

"Right on. See you then baby."

"See you," Ginger replied. Her assumptions that she wouldn't like Brian had indeed been correct. Sighing, she headed towards her limo, thinking she would dump him tonight or go crazy.

After recording some formulas down into a notebook, the Professor looked up at Ms. Ainsworth and announced, "Well, I say we call it a day. We can't really get too much further until these specimens sit for a few more days."

"Yes, I think we made extensive progress for one day," Ms. Ainsworth replied.

They took off their lab coats and were about to part when the Professor said,

"Oh Ms. Ainsworth. I'm going out to dinner tonight and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me."

"I would be delighted," she answered.

"Alright, I'll see you at seven or so."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

"Hello, my name is Andrew, and welcome to Simon's Seafood House. Do you have reservations?" the host asked politely, straightening his posture.

"Yes, we do. Uh, table for two under the name of Marcus," Brian replied smoothly, looking the host straight in the eye.

"Please follow me this way," he said, picking up two menus.

Brian held his arm out for Ginger, and winked as she linked hers in his. They followed the host to a small candle lit table that sat outside on a deck over looking the vast ocean and beach.

"Your waitress will be with you momentarily."

"Thank you."

"Say…" Andrew began in sudden, jubilant realization, "Hey, I know who you two are. Aren't you Ginger Grant and Brian Marcus of Hollywood?"

"Yes, we are," Ginger replied, smiling at the astonished looking man.

"Yeah, yeah. You two are doing a picture together currently aren't you?"

"Aha, the "Reveries of Jackson Mc Brown". Very suspenseful," Ginger supplied winking at the host, causing him to blush.

"Well, I can't wait to see it. I've seen all of your movies; and yours Mr. Marcus. My wife and I love the two of you. Why, when we heard you were finally making a film together, we were ecstatic!"

"Yeah, well we're real pleased to hear that; you're one of the first people to tell us that," Brian said with a noticeable amount of sarcasm in his words.

Andrew however, did not seem to pick up on the sarcasm and continued, "Really? You must be joshing me! Hey, um, I know this is kind of forward, but can I have your autographs? My wife would just be delighted. I kind of forgot about our anniversary and this might make her forget it, at least a little."

Ginger signed a napkin with a pen the eager host provided then passed it to Brian, eyeing him sternly as he grudgingly signed the napkin as well.

"Yeah sure," he said, handing the man the piece of paper. "Hey can we have some space?" Brian asked annoyed, attempting to brush the man off.

"Certainly," Andrew replied, slightly offended at the rude tone in Brian's voice, "I did not mean to be a nuisance. Forgive me."

Ginger watched the slightly hurt man walk off to the front door before turning to Brian, frowning.

"What's the matter baby?" Brian questioned with a kind of confusion only a man could obtain. "Hey, you aren't sore at me because of him are you? Look, wasn't he getting on your nerves; because I sure didn't appreciate being interrogated."

"Well you didn't need to be rude," she replied, still frowning at him.

"Look, let's not let that ruin the night with a stupid argument," he said, trying to laugh the matter off.

"A stupid argument?! What, don't you care what I have to say? In fact, all you ever care about is yourself!" Ginger announced heatedly.

"Take it easy Ginger. You know I didn't mean it like that. I care about you. It's just that you've been a little edgy lately."

"I'm sorry… it's just the stress of the film I guess," she lied. She new to well it wasn't the movie that was making her look for an argument.

Moments later, they had given the waitress their orders and immersed themselves in conversation.

Meanwhile, Andrew greeted a slightly different couple at the door, still bubbling with excitement, "Hello, my name is Andrew, and welcome to Simon's Seafood House. Do you have reservations?"

"I am afraid not. I hope it would not inconvenience you to seat us without them though."

Andrew examined the couple closely; the man was of average height with gray hair (though not as a result of old age, he was perhaps only thirty-five or so) and blue eyes. The woman was perhaps thirty-five to forty with short dirty blonde hair and thick rimmed glasses. Overall, his first impression of the couple was that they both held occupations that required some degree of intelligence. But never the less, they were indeed very different from the previous couple he had seated.

"Of course it would not inconvenience me. In fact," Andrew suggested, hoping to get another glimpse of the Hollywood couple, "we have some nice seats out on our deck. They are really quite pleasant; you can even walk out onto the beach from the deck."

"Why thank you, that would be very agreeable indeed," the man replied genuinely.

Andrew led them to their table which was about ten tables away from Ginger and Brian's.

"Your waitress will be along shortly."

"Thank you."

A few minutes later, their orders were taken by a young woman who couldn't have been over 25.

"Thank you again for taking me out to dinner, Roy."

"It's my pleasure Ms. Ainsworth," he responded automatically.

"You needn't be so formal," she said, smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry, Sarah."

"Oh… don't be. You're just being a gentleman."

They began discussing their current research; or rather, Ms. Ainsworth told the Professor about her research. He was slightly preoccupied with scanning his surroundings. He responded with comments like, "I quite agree," or "Yes, I've had similar experiences" at the appropriate times, but he seemed a bit distracted.

It was rather dark, the small flickering candles on each table providing the only light aside from the lights strung along the banister. Despite the dim light, the Professor was able to count maybe 15 other tables, only about five or so were actually occupied though.

At one table, a haggard looking middle age couple sat, obviously relieved to have a night without screaming children. At another an older woman with graying hair sat alone, intent on writing vigorously onto a pad of paper. At another, two young teenagers sat, talking nervously, excited to be on a date finally.

The final occupied table was some distance away from his own but he could make out to figures barely. They stood up and he was able to determine that the one was a tall, broad shouldered man; the other was obviously a woman. They walked off the deck and onto the sandy beach, disappearing from the Professor's examining eyes. He couldn't help but think that something was very familiar about the woman. He shook his head, shirking the feeling that was forming inside of him, laughing to himself. She wouldn't be here on the East coast anyway. The whole idea made know sense at all.

"Do you want to walk out onto the beach while we wait?" Brian asked.

"Sure," Ginger answered, following him out onto the sandy shore.

The wind that blew softly was salty and rather chilly. The waves crashed gently, back and forth. Back and forth.

The quite stillness of it all took her back; remembering a night on a different sandy shore with a different man. Unconsciously, she let the memory flow back to her…

_The waves tickled her feet as the water rose and fell along the shore. Roy was next to her, holding her hand, gently but at the same time firmly…_

_They watched the bright orange ball of fire sink behind the vast ocean waves. A purple tint painted the sky and stars slowly filled the sky._

_They fell back into the sand to gaze up at the stars, their heads touching and hands still connected. Roy would name the brightest ones, then tell her they weren't half as bright as the sparkle in her eyes…_

_She wouldn't care that she was lying in the sand; that it was in her hair. As long as she was with Roy…_

"Ginger, what are you thinking about?" Brian questioned curiously, interrupting her reverie.

"What? Oh, sorry. I was um… thinking about the ending scene of the movie. I think it sounds a bit dry, don't you?"

"That's not what you were thinking about," he stated quietly, a note of annoyance clear in his voice.

"No… it wasn't… I'm sorry. I'll bet our food is at the table by now," she guessed, hoping to distract him from his questioning.

They walked back up to the deck, all the while Ginger was telling herself to forget about the past. But try as she might, she couldn't stop thinking of him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

The Professor and Ms. Ainsworth were in the middle of a discussion concerning the mating habits of the tapeworm when their food came.

"Oh yes," the Professor continued their conversation, "I found that trait most intriguing."

"Yes, but were you aware that," Ms. Ainsworth continued to speak words inaudible to the Professor.

He was frozen with shock as he gazed across the deck and saw Ginger staring back at him. She turned her head quickly and he did likewise.

"Roy, are you listening to me?" she asked skeptically.

"Oh yes! Forgive me, I was just caught in dire fascination at how complex tapeworm's can be…" his voice trailed off as Ginger met his eyes once more.

"Why! Mr. Hinkley, you cad! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, asking me out to dinner then starring at some other woman like, like that!"

The Professor barely noticed Ms. Ainsworth leave the table in fury. His head was spinning and his heart pounding. Now was his chance to apologize for being vulgar. He didn't care if she was with someone else, didn't care if she didn't love him anymore… He had to speak with her.

But he couldn't just walk over and interrupt. That indeed would be very rude. But he couldn't wait any longer. Suppose he missed his chance, he might not see her again for a long time.

He pondered another five minutes until final he stood up and tried to calm himself.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginger saw the Professor stand up and walk towards her table. She continued to talk casually to Brian, attempting to ward off the nervous feelings that were filling her with each step the Professor took.

"So like I was saying, Dundaugh is really starting to tick me off and," Brian's voice trailed off as the Professor arrived at their table. "Can we help you?"

"Yes, in fact you can. Please forgive me for interrupting, but I was wondering if I could speak with Ginger for a moment…"

Ginger opened her mouth to speak but Brian got to it first, "Actually, I'm afraid you can't."

"Oh, but I'm afraid I must. Ginger, I need to speak to you," the Professor insisted, eyeing Brian coolly.

"Look, what don't you understand? I said no, now please, leave us alone!" Brian practically shouted.

"I am aware that _you_ said no. But it does not concern me what you say. I am asking to speak with Ginger and therefore I will ask her! Ginger, may I speak to you?!"

"Well, yes I suppose so," Ginger answered, trying to hide the eagerness in her voice.

"Ginger do you know this," he finished the sentence with something vulgar, "or is he just a fan?"

"No, he's from the island. And he's not like that…" Ginger said, addressing Brian's rather rude comment.

"Well look, can you two have a reunion some other time?"

"No, I can't wait…" the Professor answered staring not at Brian but at Ginger who was staring back at him.

"Neither can I…" Ginger agreed.

"Oh, I see how it is!" Brian announced, "Well look baby, it's either me or him. You choose."

Ginger looked at Brian, and then at the Professor. Her eyes lingered on his a moment before turning back to Brian with her answer.

"Him."

"What?! You'd rather be with this nerd than with charming, handsome me?"

"Charming and handsome?! Why, you're a nut case!" Ginger laughed, almost hysterically. She stood up and attempted to walk away with the Professor but Brian grabbed her arm. "Ow! Let me go!"

"Now wait a minute Ginger, you can't just leave!"

"Oh yes I can, and I intend to do so if you would kindly let go of my arm."

"But what about our movie?"

"What about it?"

"Well, we can't hate each other in real life put pretend to love each other while the camera's rolling."

"Sure we can. You see, in our profession, there's this thing we do called acting. Now let go of my arm," she said coolly.

"You burn me up, you little," he muttered something else and continued to hold her arm tightly.

"Well here, this ought to cool you off," Ginger said vehemently as she picked up her glass of wine with her free hand and doused Brian's face.

Finally he let go of her arm and Ginger turned to the Professor, "Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight:**

And they did; the Professor paid the bill for his table and then they walked out onto the beach, together. They walked in silence for sometime until there was no one in sight.

"Professor," Ginger began, unsure if it would be to forward to call him Roy.

"Yes, Ms. Grant?" he smiled.

"So I take it you wish for me to call you Roy?"

"I would like that very much, Ginger."

"Does that mean you forgive me?"

"No it means I am asking you to forgive me, for it was I who behaved childishly."

"No, I did," Ginger disagreed.

"Shall we settle it at we both did then?" the Professor asked.

"Yes, that seems correct. And shall we agree that we missed each other terribly and just seeing each other tonight means more to us than anything?"

"Very true, very true," the Professor agreed.

"Oh, and I want to apologize for how Brian acted. Actually, I suppose I could have handled the situation more naturally. But, like I said, he's a nut case. I'm so glad my knight in a lab coat came to my rescue."

"I understand completely. And allow me to say that the knight in a lab coat was very happy to rescue the damsel in distress; though I must say she didn't need my help; she had the situation quite under control. Did I mention that you look very… beautiful tonight?"

"Not healthy?" Ginger questioned with a smile.

"Oh no; you look far too lovely to look just healthy."

"Oh Roy…" she sighed, "…you're so charming and… oh… so handsome. Not to change the subject, but weren't you with some woman tonight?"

"Oh yes, now that you mention it, I believe I was," he smiled uncomfortably as a wave of guilt washed over him. "Oh dear, I was rather rude to Sarah. You must understand, she's a very nice woman, but I haven't the slightest romantic affection for her."

"Well I should certainly hope not," Ginger said in mock crossness.

"I was wondering…"

"Yes."

"What might you be doing on the east coast?" the Professor questioned.

"Oh we're shooting a few scenes on location."

"And where exactly is location?"

"Some small town outside of Baltimore; I can't remember the name. But why are you here. Don't you teach in Cleveland?"

"Yes, but the university sent me out here to run some tests."

"Oh, I see. And how long do you expect to be out here?"

"Oh, maybe a month more. How about yourself?"

"Same amount of time; but what will happen after that? Sure, now we can stay in touch easily since we are close by. But after the month flies by… Long distant relationships don't work."

"No, they don't," the Professor agreed quietly, a very simple way everything could workout forming in his mind. "Are you chilly?"

"What, oh yes, just a little bit," Ginger admitted.

"Here, take my jacket," he said, taking it off.

"No, I can't do that; then you'll be chilly. Besides, it's my own fault if I can't remember to wear a jacket in October."

"Not if you come from a place where it is usually warm in October, besides, I have long sleeves on and you don't," the Professor explained, wrapping the jacket around Ginger.

"Thank you. I feel warmer already," she informed him as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

"Zipper me up," she murmured.

As he did, Ginger wrapped her arms around his neck and when he had finished; his arms automatically went around Ginger's waist as they embraced warmly.

"I knew I wouldn't be chilly," he whispered into her ear.

"I missed you… very much…" Ginger whispered back.

"Not as much as I missed you…"

"Want to bet?"

They ended the hug and sat down on a large rock and gazed out at the vast ocean.

"It's almost like back home on the island…"

"Back home…"

The minutes passed as they sat together, finally together. But as happy as she was, Ginger could not help but think that it would all end to soon.

Ginger lifted her head off of the Professor's shoulder and asked gently, "What are you humming? I recognize that tune."

"A song I had stuck in my head constantly while I was away from you," the Professor explained. Then, ever so softly, he began to sing, _"I don't know why I love you but I do… I only know I'm lonely, and that I love you only… I don't know why I love you but I do… I don't know why I cry so but I do… And since you've been away, I've cried both night and day… I don't know why I love you but I do."_

"I never knew what a nice voice you had," Ginger commented.

"Oh, why thank you. And may I say that yours is very lovely as well."

"I wonder what time it is." Ginger asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure, but it must be very late…" the Professor answered, not wishing too end their time together.

"Don't leave me…"

"Well, I'm afraid we can't stay out on this beach all night."

"No, I suppose not. But you will walk me home won't you?"

"Of course. Where is it that you're staying?" he questioned.

"At a hotel on Watkins Street."

"Hmm, that's a bit of a walk from here. I wish I'd brought a car, but Sarah and I walked here."

"That's alright, we can walk," Ginger replied, happy to have an excuse to stay with the Professor longer.  
They started making their way off the beach and onto the deserted streets. After twenty minutes of walking, the hotel loomed into view.

"Well, here we are," the Professor announced, stopping and turning to Ginger.

"Yes. Where are you staying?"

"I'm staying with my cousin and his family. They live a mile outside the city in a nice little beach house," he answered.

"Would it be alright, do you think, if I got a phone number?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I think I have a pen and a note pad in my jacket."

Ginger checked the pockets until she found the desired items and copied down the numbers the Professor told her. Then, she wrote down some more numbers on a different sheet and handed it to the Professor.

"I'm staying in room 248 and if you want to contact me, just call that other number and you'll get the receptionist and just leave her a message for my room," she explained, handing him the piece of paper.

"Thank you."

"Oh, um, I guess I'd better give you your jacket back," Ginger said.

"That's alright; I'll get it another time; it'll give me another excuse to come see you anyway," the Professor stated, smiling. Quickly, he glanced around to make sure no one was in sight, then he pulled Ginger close to him as they kissed goodnight.

"Afraid to be caught participating in germ warfare?" she laughed as their lips separated.

"Very funny," he remarked sarcastically before kissing her once more.

"Goodnight," she said as she turned and walked into the building.

"Goodnight," he called after her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

Tiredness seemed to set in almost immediately after she disappeared from sight. Slowly, the Professor journeyed home, looking forward to collapsing into his bed. Finally, he reached the house and fumbled to unlock the door with the spare key he had been given.

The house was dark, and for once, quiet. The swarm of five kids and one teenager were asleep, the only time they were not making noise.

He trudged up the stairs (stumbling twice) to the room he shared with James, who was fifteen. As quietly as he could, he turned the knob and opened the creaky door, only to find that James was still awake with the lights on, listening to the radio.

"Good morning," James said pleasantly.

"Good morning?" the Professor asked.

"Yeah, it's one a.m. Back so soon?"

"Oh be quiet. I took a wrong turn and got lost," he lied.

"Yeah, sure; by the way, you might want to wash that lipstick off your face before you go to bed."

"Good heavens!" the Professor exclaimed, hurrying to look in the mirror.

"So, you like that Ms. Answith do you?"

"Ms. Ainsworth, and no I haven't the slightest liking for her. In fact, it wasn't even her who I kissed, it was…"

"Yes?" James asked eager to hear the full story.

"Never mind who it was. The point is, you don't need to inform your brothers and sisters of my time and state of arrival. Especially not Jill!"

"Aw, don't be so harsh. Jill can't help it if she repeats everything she hears. She's like a parrot."

"Turn that music off please," he said, now in his pajamas.

"Alright, alright," James sighed, flicking the switch off.

The Professor turned the light off and crawled into his bed, suddenly unable to sleep, reviewing the night's events over and over again until finally, his eyelids closed.

Something was jumping on him. No, some things were jumping on him. Those things were children; all of them shouting, "Uncle Roy, Uncle Roy! Get up sleepy head!"

He rolled over and groaned. He wasn't really their uncle, but they had insisted on calling him by that title. They pulled the pillow out from under his head and took turns whacking him with it. The covers were next to come off and then sudden cold made his eyes snap open.

"He's alive!" a strangely haired seven year old cried.

"Come on; let's push him out of bed!"

"There will be no need for that," the Professor announced, sitting up.

Immediately they put on innocent faces and a ten year old brown eyed boy who was obviously the leader of the little gang asked, "Uncle Roy, can you tell us a story about the island?"

"Oh no, not right now," he grumbled.

His response was met with a chorus of "please" and finally, reluctantly, he gave in.

"Oh alright. One day, while Gilligan was out collecting coconuts, he came across an old, run down hut. Gilligan was very frightened and he ran back to our huts, shouting that there were head hunters on the island."

"But Uncle Roy, how did Gilligan know there were headhunters on the island?"

"He didn't know that for sure, but remember how I told you that Gilligan can make a situation very scary to himself if he wants to. Now, Gilligan ran back to the camp shouting the news and everyone gathered immediately. We decided that the men would check the hut to see if there really were headhunters on the island.

We reached the little hut and I informed them it was a Pookebahookee hut. The Pookebahookee were a fierce tribe of natives, but I told them we had nothing to fear because the Pookebahookee only eat little children who bother them. Since there was no danger, we decided to see if anybody was in the hut. we peered through the window and saw a huge, huge native sleeping. Why, we must have eaten at least 20 little children who had bothered him! He had a big spear decorated with feathers and the skulls of the children he ate," the Professor paused to examine the frightened kids' faces, "Well, Gilligan was very scared and tried to run away but instead ran into the Skipper who shouted angrily, 'Gilligan!'. Well, the native's eyelids snapped open and he grabbed his spear," at this, the Professor nodded at James slightly, who crept up behind the kids, "and started to scream."

Immediately, James began to roar ferociously, causing the kids to run out of the room in terror.

"Thank you," the Professor said.

"My pleasure. Now tell me, who were you kissing last night?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Come on, tell me, or I'll tell the kids. And you know they wouldn't let up on that."

"Okay, you win. It was Ginger."

"From the island? Aw… how cute. Do you have a picture of her?"

"Um, I don't think so. But I'll introduce you sometime. What time is it?"

"7:30. Mom's got breakfast on the stove."

"Is Phillip home or has he left for work?"

"No, Dad took off work today."

The Professor changed and washed up then headed downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning Roy. Sleep well?" a tall, middle aged lady with curly brown hair asked while frying some eggs.

"Quite well, until this morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that."

"It's quite alright Alice; I need to get up anyway."

Just then, a thin man with blonde hair walked in yawning.

"'Morning Roy."

"Good morning Phillip."

"Say, (YAWN), 'bout what time did you get home last night?" Phillip asked tiredly.

"You mean what time this morning," James said as he bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. "When he came in it was past one am! And oh boy, guess what he'd been doing?"

"What had he been doing?" Alice asked disapprovingly.

"Yeah, what were you doing?" Phillip questioned curiously. He couldn't really picture his cousin doing anything wild.

"I was," the Professor began, before being cut off by James.

"He ditched that nerdy lady he was with for that movie chick from the island. And when he came home at one am, there was lipstick all over his face!" James finished, trying to make the story seem as scandalous as possible.

"It wasn't at all like that!" the Professor explained heatedly.

"Oh, then how did it happen lover boy?" Phillip asked, quite amused with his son's version of events. He gave the Professor a crooked smile.

"Well, Ms. Ainsworth and I were discussing the mating habits of tapeworms when I saw Ginger from across the deck of the restaurant. Naturally, I was very surprised to see her here on the east coast, as Hollywood happens to be located on the west coast. Anyway, Ms. Ainsworth called me a cad for staring at another woman and left. So it was she who did the ditching, not I.

"I walked over to Ginger and asked if she wanted to take a walk," he deliberately left out the part about Brian for Ginger's sake, "and we did.

I suppose we just lost track of time catching up; it has been a while since I'd seen or talked to her.

And when I walked her home to where she was staying, we kissed goodnight. And as for having lipstick all over my face, it was merely here." He finished, pointing to the area around his mouth.

"That's very interesting, for you. Do you plan on seeing her again?" Phillip asked casually.

"Perhaps," actually, he was planning on seeing her tonight if he could.

They sat down at the table and helped themselves to some eggs and bacon.

The Professor made sure to kick James firmly in the shin. He liked the kid a lot; he was like his father in almost every way except his appearance.

"James, could you take the kids to the park some time today?" his mother asked as she washed some pots.

"Aw, come on Mom, it's Saturday!" he complained.

"Dear, can you take them then?" Alice asked Phillip.

"I suppose I don't have much choice," Phillip grumbled back.

"Don't be like that Phillip," Alice said sternly.

An hour later, the Professor was alone in the house to work on his research. Phillip had reluctantly taken the kids out. Alice was grocery shopping and James went over to his friend's house.

The Professor took a moment to be thankful for the silence then started jotting down figures and played around with them. However, he found it hard to concentrate on anything but the previous night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten:**

MaryAnn wiped a joyful tear away from her eye as she journeyed home on the busy road. She hadn't been this happy since the day Gilligan had proposed. She continued to drive carefully, contemplating how and when she was going to tell Gilligan


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven:**

The Professor finally gave up attempting to work and walked over to the phone and dialed the number Ginger had given him.

A dry, monotonous voice spoke, "Hello, and thank you for calling Sunny Days Hotel. How may I help you?"

"Uh, yes. I was wondering if I could leave a message for someone."

"Room number?" the receptionist asked without a note of emotion in her voice.

"Uhm, room 248, Miss Ginger Grant."

"Okay, what do you want me to tell her?"

"Uhm… can you ask her to call Roy Hinkley?"

"Yes sir, when would you like me to deliver the message?"

"As soon as possible, please," the Professor hung up and dialed another number.

"Hello, Sarah Ainsworth speaking. May I ask to whom I am speaking?" she asked politely.

"Uh, Sarah. This is Roy; hey, wait. Don't hang up!"  
"Oh? And why not?" she asked, a little less politely.

"Because I called to apologize for my behavior the other evening," he started uneasily.

"Continue."

"Well, um, the thing you must understand is that I think you're a very nice woman and enjoy your company, but frankly I, um, I don't really have much romantic inclination towards you. And well, the woman at whom you caught me staring at, she was stranded with me and well, we had developed a relationship. Actually, it continued very nicely for quite a while until we had a nasty dispute. But when I saw her last night, I realized what a mistake I had made. And truthfully, I was very surprised to see her."

Ms. Ainsworth mumbled something that sounded like, 'I'll say you were'. Then more clearly she said, "I see."

"I suppose you had every right to call me a cad. But I just wanted to apologize."

"Well, apology accepted. And just remember Professor, just remember, I'll always be here if you change your mind," she finished hopefully.

"Uh, thank you," the Professor replied awkwardly before replacing the phone on the receiver.

Ginger unlocked the door to her room and entered, flipping on the lights. Brian had indeed been very difficult to work with, but she should have expected as much she supposed.

On a small night stand there was a note from the receptionist.

_Please call a Mr. Roy Hinkley as soon as possible. Thank you._

She searched around for his number awhile and finally found it in the first place she should have looked, his coat pocket. She quickly dialed the number and heard someone after a few rings.

"Hello."

"Hi, is Roy there?"

"Roy who?"

"Roy Hinkley," Ginger answered.

"Yeah, we got him here. But listen, if you ever want to see him again… ouch! Hey, Uncle Roy, ah, no wait," James shouted as the Professor yanked the phone out of his hands.

"Hello. Ginger?"

"Yes."

"Please forgive that um, conversation; that was my nephew, I mean my cousin, James."  
"That's alright; I like a sense of humor."

"Uh, could you hold on a second, privacy is a word without meaning around here," the Professor explained while he shoed James and the other kids out the door, shutting the door behind them firmly. "Now, I was speculating if I might have the privilege of escorting you out during your time of ennui to somewhere quixotic tonight."

"I was wondering if I might have the privilege of what you were asking me," Ginger responded.

"Oh, sorry. Would you like to go out tonight?" the Professor questioned.

"Why yes, I'd love to. Uh, what time?"

"I'll come by around seven."

"Okay, where are we going?"

"Oh, I hadn't considered that," he admitted.

"Well, how about I surprise you?" Ginger suggested.

"Alright, that sounds fantastic. Goodbye," he finished happily.

"Until seven," Ginger replied.

The next few weeks were patterned out in a similar fashion. Almost every night they would get together or at least talk. It seemed that there was a mutual but unspoken agreement between them that they had to spend as much time together as possible while they could. Because neither of them were too sure what would happen at the end of a month's time…


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: **

"Thank you for coming over Margaret," Mrs. Howell said as the last of her group of friends left the Howell's mansion.

Mrs. Howell saw a stately butler walk towards her (She thought his name was Sam). "Mrs. Howell, there is a gentleman on the telephone by the name of Roy Hinkley."

"Oh, where do I know that name from?" she questioned out loud.

"Um, he said you would know him as 'the Professor."

"Oh! I wonder what he would want. Is he still on the line?"

"Yes madam, shall I tell him you will call him back?"

"No, I'll speak to him now." Mrs. Howell responded, following him into a lavishly furnished sitting room. She picked up the phone that was lying beside the receiver, "Hello."

"Yes, Mrs. Howell?"  
"Yes, this is her; I believe you wanted to ask me something Professor."

"Uh, yes in fact I did. I was wondering if I might have your womanly advice on something of great importance to me."

"Yes, and what might that be?" she questioned curiously.

"Engagement rings."

Mrs. Howell didn't think she had heard the Professor correctly, "I'm afraid I didn't catch that last part. What was it you wanted my advice on?"

"Engagement rings Mrs. Howell," he explained again.

"Oh my. If it's not to bold, I might say that it seems a little out of your character to get engaged to someone after knowing her for only a few months."

"Mrs. Howell, I have known this woman for quite a bit longer than just a few months. In fact, it's been more like a few dozen months and then some."

After doing some quick calculating in her head, Mrs. Howell exclaimed, "Oh my dear boy! But I thought you two weren't on speaking terms."

"Oh, no, we are now definitely on speaking terms," he insisted.

"Oh my, well this is shocking news! Uh, I believe you had a question concerning rings."

"Yes, you see, um, I really am not too good at this kind of stuff and I wanted your opinion before I went and picked one out."

"Oh, well. I know! I'll fly over to Cleveland and help you myself."

"What? No, Mrs. Howell, you don't need to do that."

He was cut off by an excited Mrs. Howell, "No, of course I must. Don't you worry about a thing Professor, just tell me where you want to meet and I'll see you in a few days."

"Well, I'm not in Cleveland right now or Ohio for that matter. I'm doing some research in Maryland."

After making further arrangements, Mrs. Howell replaced the phone on the receiver and hurried excitedly to get packed. She was directing her maid on which outfits to pack when Mr. Howell came in.

"Lovey, my dear. What on Earth are you doing?"  
"I'm going to help the Professor pick out an engagement ring," she explained matter-of-factly.

"What? I didn't know the old boy was seeing someone. Who exactly is that he's planning to ask?"

"Ginger."

"But, I thought they had an argument right before we were rescued."

"Oh they did. But anyhow, they're together now," Mrs. Howell said elatedly.

"Well, why do you need to help the Professor pick out a ring?" Mr. Howell questioned stubbornly.

"Oh, you know how naïve the Professor is with little details like that, sentimental details I mean. Besides, I'll only be gone for a day or two."

"Well, never the less, I will be accompanying you, I don't want to leave you out of my eyes for more than 24 hours."

"Oh Thurston, you're so romantic," Lovey sighed.

"No, I just don't think my wallet could handle that," he replied laughing.

Mr. Howell ignored that with a, "Poo!"

Three days later, Mr. and Mrs. Howell and the Professor were peering at jewelry through fingerprint-less glass.

"Oh, how about this one?" Mrs. Howell asked, pointing to one of the rings.

"I don't know, it's very lovely, but I don't think it's right," he answered.

"But Professor, we've looked through about a hundred rings, certainly there's one that's suitable," Mr. Howell complained.

"Oh, hush Thurston, these things take time," Mrs. Howell explained.

The Professor gradually drifted away from the Howell's scanning the cases until his eyes stopped suddenly. He gazed at the ring, knowing he had found the perfect ring; a flawless diamond surrounded by tiny, glistening emeralds. He realized it was the small emeralds that struck him most powerfully; they were almost the exact color of her eyes…

He checked the price below the ring and sighed in despair; he'd never be able to afford it no matter how he scrimped and saved. He looked up to see Mrs. Howell looking at the same ring.

"Oh Professor, it's absolutely perfect! It would go with her eyes so well! You see, you didn't need me, you have excellent taste!"

"Never the less, I'm afraid I can't possibly afford it," he sighed despondently.

"Oh nonsense, Thurston and I will take care of that."

"Mrs. Howell, I couldn't possibly let you do something like that," he objected.

"Poo! Of course you could, why, if it wasn't for you, we would have never survived on that silly little island. Just consider it a token of our gratitude."  
"No, I really couldn't…"

"But you must! It's absolutely perfect for Ginger!"

"Lovey, will you let the man speak!" Mr. Howell said in frustration at the thought of donating to any cause besides himself.

"No, now Thurston, you go ask the nice cashier if you can purchase this ring," Mrs. Howell commanded.

Mr. Howell mumbled something that sounded like, "I hope he says no." as he walked over to the cashier to make the purchase. When the money had been exchanged for the ring, Mr. Howell informed the clerk, "You know, the man with the most money isn't always the happiest; his wife is."

Mr. Howell handed the ring, now in a small black, velvet case to the Professor.

"Thank you very much, and mark my words, somehow, I intend to repay you," the Professor informed the couple.

"Believe me, your words are marked," Mr. Howell assured him.

"Well good luck Professor," Mrs. Howell wished him.

"Yes, I certainly hope so. Um, I'd appreciate it if you two didn't mention this to anyone. I'd like to keep it a surprise if she does say yes."

"Certainly, perhaps we'll see you at Christmas."

Ginger stared glumly at a small calendar book she held in her hands; the past month had flown by and she didn't want to believe that tonight was her last night with Roy Hinkley.

Sighing, she glanced at the clock then headed out the door to meet him one last time…

The Professor was wringing his hands as he continued to pace back and fourth outside the hotel. He checked his pocket to make sure he had the ring then attempted to appear calm as he saw Ginger walk towards him, smiling.

He noticed she was wearing the same dress she had been wearing when they were reunited at Simon's Seafood House; it was a flaming red cocktail dress with black trim. He walked over and opened the hotel door for her then took her hand (he silently prayed his hands weren't sweaty).

"Hello, where are we going tonight?"

"I thought we could eat at this little restaurant then walk down to the beach. Are you alright? You sound a little despondent," the Professor examined.

"Oh, I'm just a little sad our wonderful month has to come to an end…" she sighed.

"So am I… But don't let's allow that to ruin our night."

"Are we riding or walking?"

"Walking, is that alright?"

"Yes, that's fine," Ginger replied.

They walked in silence; the Professor was a nervous wreck and Ginger was silently counting down the remaining time she had with him. However, during dinner, they seemed to loosen up and by the time they were finished and started heading to the beach they were deeply involved in conversation.

They sat down on the same rock they had that night almost a month ago, staring into the endless water.

The Professor thought his nerves were going to snap in half if he didn't ask Ginger soon; but he commanded himself to wait until the moment was perfect.

Ginger also thought her nerves were going to snap, she felt so melancholy at the Professor anymore.

"Why does this month have to come to an end?!

The next thing he knew, the Professor found himself go smoothly down onto one knee and produce the ring he'd picked out and spoke the words that had been on his lips for weeks, "Ginger, will you marry me?"

Ginger turned to look at the Professor quizzically. Could this be real? Her heart was screaming at her, begging her to say yes. But something was preventing her from the ability to speak.

"Ginger, listen, I know what you're thinking; that one of us would have to change professions or something. But we wouldn't have to, you see, I figured it all out; we can live in California. That way, you can continue to work in Hollywood, and I can get a job at the Los Angeles University."

"I… I couldn't let you do that…"

"Ginger, it wouldn't matter to me; as long as I was with you, nothing else would mater."

"Are you sure?"

"I am 100 percent positive," he answered. He was holding his breath, waiting for her answer.

She breathed in slowly, then out. She smiled at Roy and gave her answer, "Yes."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

They walked home very happily, discussing plans of all sorts.

"Well, I guess I really don't need to go back to Hollywood for a few more days; I've finished shooting my scenes."

"Alright, and I believe the university would be fine with me taking a few more days until I return. We can figure everything else out tomorrow," he decided, as they reached the hotel.

"Okay, when will we meet?"

"Call me tomorrow morning."

"Alright…" Ginger agreed, not wishing to say goodbye.

A moment later, they found themselves kissing goodnight. When they had finished, the Professor pulled away slowly, "Goodnight… I love you. Oh and, let's not tell anyone we're engaged, not just yet…"

"Why?"

"I think it'd be fun to surprise them if we see them at Christmas…"

"Oh, I see. That would be fun," she agreed, assuming the Professor was referring to the other castaways. "Goodnight, I love you too…"

The Professor watched her disappear into the hotel then began to almost skip home happily.

"Why, if it was raining, I'm positive I'd be singing!" he declared to the empty streets.

He made it home in good time, and in fact he was humming. The porch light was on and he walked inside to find Phillip and Alice sitting at the table, sipping hot chocolate.

"Hey, you're home early, it's only ten-thirty!" Phillip declared in amazement.

"Roy? Are you alright? You look a little dazed…" Alice asked in concern.

"I… I… I'm getting married!" the Professor announced breathlessly.

The receptionist looked up as Ginger entered the hotel, "Hello Ms. Grant, you have a call from a Mrs. MaryAnn Gilligan."

"Okay, thank you."

When Ginger entered her room, she walked over to the phone and dialed MaryAnn's number.

"Hello," Gilligan said.

"Hi Gilligan, is MaryAnn there?" Ginger asked.

"Oh hi Ginger, yeah, here's MaryAnn."

"Thanks Gilligan. Hi MaryAnn."

"Oh hi Ginger. How are you?" MaryAnn asked.

"Very well; how are you?"  
"Good, good. Um the reason I called was that Gilligan, Skipper and I are going to have a Christmas party on the island and we were wondering if you'd like to come. Mr. and Mrs. Howell are coming; I don't know if Willy got a hold of the Professor or not."

"Sure, I'd love to come. Is it alright if I bring my fiancé along?"

"Oh Ginger!" MaryAnn exclaimed excitedly, "Oh are you really going to get married?"

"Yes, I am, and you're going to be my maid of honor!"

"Oh Ginger, that's wonderful! Oh what's he like?"

"Perfect in every way; charming and handsome, you'll like him a lot."

"Well, I can't wait to meet him. Um, the party will be December 20 and we're going to leave for the island at about one or two."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

The Professor hurried up the stairs as quietly as possible so as not to awake the tribe of children and slipped into his and James's room.

"Sooo… how'd it go?" he asked. Asides from the Howell's, he was the only person the Professor had let in on his secret.  
"She acquiesced my proposal!"

"So…" he questioned further.

"She said yes!" the Professor almost shouted in jubilation.

"Alright! So when can I meet her?"

"Well, maybe tomorrow; you're parents seemed equally eager to do so as well."

"Hey, can I throw you a bachelor party?" James asked wildly.

"I'm afraid that will not be necessary."

"Darn it! You are no fun," he remarked. "You know, you'd be about the last guy I would think would marry someone in show biz."

"Yes, I am aware of that. But I suppose people can learn to put aside their differences and live together happily, and I suppose we found we actually thoroughly enjoyed each other's company."

"Well, I'd _hope_ you enjoy each other's company if you're getting married," James laughed.

"Well goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Her dreaming consisted of palm trees, starry nights, and Roy Hinkley. She woke up slowly, trying to remember the details of her last one. Reluctantly, she crawled out of bed to prepare to see Roy. Around nine she was showered, dressed, and ready.

Se dialed his number, and waited to hear James pick up the phone, pretending to be who knows what.

Today, he was Fred Mertz.

"Hello," he said in a low, monotonous voice, "Fred Mertz here. Who's speaking?"

"Hi Fred, this is Lucy. Is Ricky there?" Ginger responded, using Lucy's high pitched, sharp voice.

"Uh, sure Lucy. Hold on, let me go get him," 'Fred' responded. He stopped the imitations and said, "Hey, congratulations, Ginger. It's Ginger right?"

"Yeah, James, right."

"The one and only. Here's Ricky."

"Thanks."

The Professor took the phone from James as he arrived in the kitchen, "Hello Ethel."

Ginger sighed in amusement; some things would never change. "Hi Fred."

"Wait, I thought I was Ricky."

"Yes dear and I am Lucy," she replied, continuing the masquerade.

"Hold on Ginger, I'm confused."

"Ginger? Who's that?! Ricky, are you with another woman?!"

"Very funny. You know I've never seen that show," the Professor complained.

"I'm sorry. Hey, what is the plan?"

"Well, everyone here is dying to meet you… so… if you want to come over here for lunch," the Professor offered.

"Sure, do you want me to bring anything?"

"Um…" the Professor began uncomfortably, remembering fishpie.

"I'm just kidding. But after we're married, your stomach is just going to have to toughen up!" she joked.

"I'm trembling already."

"Don't worry, I'll ask MaryAnn for some tips."

"That might be beneficial. I'll be over around eleven thirty."

"Until then."

"So long," the Professor hung up then turned to James. "Um, James."

"Yeah?" he asked with a mouth full of breakfast in his mouth.

"Could I borrow your car to pick Ginger up?"  
"Well, what's wrong with mom and dads'?"

"Nothing, it's just that yours is in much better condition… and besides, you aren't even old enough to drive legally."

"Okay, okay lover boy. But there better not be a scratch, not a single scratch, when you return it."  
"Agreed."

Eleven rolled around slower than the Professor would have preferred. He took the keys James handed him and headed quickly out the door.

"James, why is he using your car? I thought it still stalled out periodically," his mother commented.

"Yeah, it does," James grinned. "But I didn't think those two little love birds would mind being stuck in a broken-down car for a while."

"Why James Ryan Hinkley!" she scolded. "They aren't teenagers after all!"

"No… but, well it probably won't stall out anyway," he smiled quite mischievously.

Ginger sat outside the hotel on a bench, admiring her engagement ring happily. It was very beautiful… truthfully, she wondered how he had afforded it, it must have cost a fortune.

While she was considering all this, someone pulled up in a flaming red mustang and she was very surprised when the Professor hopped out of the driver's side and walked towards her.

"Nice car," she commented as he reached her. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Only the best for the best," he said, taking her hand. He noticed surprisingly, that she wasn't wearing a dress, as was customary for her, but pants and a sweater.

"Hmm, you're starting to remind me of someone with your spending. First this simply gorgeous ring, and now such a car!" she scolded mockingly.

"Oh, never you worry. Besides, the car is James's."

"And the ring?"

"Hmm…" he laughed, "You'll have to deduce that one for yourself. May I be so bold as to question your seemingly sudden change of style?"

"Oh, I didn't feel like wearing a dress today, and I figured a dress would be overly formal anyway. Why? Don't you like the change?"

"No, no, I was simply curious. Believe me, you still look… dazzling," he admitted truthfully. "Shall we leave then?"

They traveled through the city, talking about the upcoming Christmas party.

"Yes, Gilligan called me this morning."

"Yeah, I talked to MaryAnn last night."

"Did you mention getting engaged?"

"Yes, I told her I would bring my charming, handsome, husband-to-be along."

"You needn't have exaggerated so."

"Who exaggerated?"

They were now out of the engine when the engine began to sputter.

"I don't believe it," the Professor moaned.

"What's the matter Roy?"

"Oh, James must not be finished fixing the engine." He switched it off after pulling over and stepped outside. Ginger got out behind him.

"Now, stand back Ginger, there's probably a considerable amount of hot steam under the hood," he warned, carefully lifting the hood. Immediately, a cloud of steam covered the Professor.

Trying not to laugh, Ginger hurried over to him and asked, "Oh are you alright?"

Wiping the condensation off of his face, he turned to her then answered, "Yes, I think so."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, Ginger, I'm not to sure, I'm not quite familiar with newer engines."

"Well here, let me try; you know, I was in this movie, uh "Rebel Without a Car", and anyway, I had to do this one scene where this guy's engine stalled out on him," she explained as she carefully searched around under the hood, "Anyway, I fixed this guy's car by messing with some wires." She fiddled with a couple wires and the horn went off like a siren. "Ow, whoops, wrong wire." She fixed that wire then leaned down to peer at another one closely. The Professor leaned over behind her. "I'm pretty sure this was it," she announced as she switched a few of the wires. "There we go." She turned around to find the Professor's head inches away from hers.

"And what happened next in that scene?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"This," she replied, kissing him slowly.

"That seems quite appropriate," he agreed, kissing her back.

Her arms went around his shoulders as they kissed.

Slowly, the Professor pulled away and murmured softly, "Well, I suppose we should stop fooling around. It might be hard to explain that we're late for lunch because we were osculating on the side of the road."

"No, that would not be good first impression…" she agreed.

They got in the car and the Professor held his breath as he turned the key. Thankfully, the engine roared to life.

"Nice work," he commented before stepping on the gas.  
"Thanks, actually, I'm pretty amazed I remembered that," she admitted.

They pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Before they got out, the Professor asked awkwardly, "Uh, Ginger… Do I have any lipstick on my face?"

"Yeah, you've got some right… here," she finished as she kissed him lightly.

"Oh, thanks," he said, wiping the are around his mouth off on the back of his sleeve.

He walked around and opened the door for Ginger, putting his arm around her. They walked up onto the porch and before opening the door he whispered into her ear, "Time to face the in-laws…"

Before he could open it however, it was yanked open by none other than a grinning James. Behind him stood Phillip and Alice, smiling warmly.

"Well come on in and introduce your fiancée. You're late, did you have car troubles?" James asked all too innocently.

"No troubles," the Professor replied. "Ginger, I'd like you to meet my cousin Phillip, his wife Alice, and well… James."

"Hello, Roy's told us nothing but good things about you. It's great to finally meet you," Phillip said, shaking her hand.

"Welcome to our home; congratulations," Alice said while shaking her hand.

"Hi, I'm James. Golly! How'd you get stuck with a nerd like our man Roy here?"

"I suppose I was pretty lucky," Ginger responded, winking at the very likeable.

"I wouldn't be calling people nerdy, Mr. 15 year old high school graduate," the Professor said.

After lunch, the Professor and Ginger walked out onto the porch to make further plans.

"Well, let's see now. Today is…"

"November 21," Ginger answered.

"Right. Well, I could take off until after Christmas since you're finished the movie. And we could use the time in between to visit and spend time with the in laws."

"That sounds fine, about two weeks with each, and then we will travel to Hawaii for the party."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen: **

A few days later, the Professor and Ginger were on a plane to Ohio. After they excited the plane, they rented a car headed towards the Professor's parents' house.

"What did your mother say when you told her you were getting married?"

"Um, she uh, developed a case of acutest theemia," the Professor admitted.

"And what exactly does that mean?" she questioned suspiciously.

"Uhm… She fainted."

"She fainted? Oh boy… Oh I'm so nervous Roy."

"Why? Because my mother fainted?"

"No, but… well, what if they don't like me?"

"Don't worry about that, they'll love you. And besides, if they don't, I still will."

"Thanks," Ginger sighed, trying to calm herself.

"Here we are," the Professor announced, parking the car, "Relax, you'll be fine."

"I hope so," she muttered as they got out and walked to the door.

A few seconds after he'd knocked, a thin woman opened the door.

"Roy!" she exclaimed happily. Her eyes fell upon Ginger and she blinked in confusion. Almost immediately, the woman fainted and her husband arrived on scene just in time to catch her.

"Oh, Molly," he muttered before turning to Ginger. "You'll have to excuse my wife. You see, um, Roy, I had to convince her that you were merely joking about getting married. Well, come in and stay a while. I'll be just a second; I've got to take care of Molly first."

They sat themselves down at a small kitchen table and waited for him to return.

"Uh, dad, I'd like you to meet my fiancée, Ginger Grant."

"Nice to meet you Ginger. My name's Henry. You can call me dad… after you two are married," he teased, "Call me Henry for now."

"Okay, Henry for now. It's nice to meet you too."

Just about then, Molly walked in slowly, still very pale. She sat down next to her husband.

"Mom, this is my fiancée, Ginger Grant."

"Hello, it's great to finally meet you Mrs. Hinkley, Roy's talks about you all the time," Ginger said warmly.

"Please, call me Molly. I must apologize for fainting, it um, was a bit of a shock to accept that our little Roy is finally going to be married."

"That's alright. I understand."

They talked casually for a long time, mostly the conversation consisting of Ginger answering Henry and Molly's numerous questions; but also about the island and being rescued. It was almost ten when their talking ended.

"Good golly, my how time flies. I suppose we should get to bed. How long do you plan on staying?" Molly questioned.

"Around two weeks mom. Is the guest room available?"

"Yes it is."

"Alright Ginger, you can sleep in there. Come on, let's go get our stuff," the Professor suggested.

Ginger got up and followed him outside.  
Henry turned to Molly as soon as they left, "Well, what do you think?"

"She seems nice, enough," Molly responded with a voice that gave away nothing.

"And what exactly does that mean?" he analyzed.

"Well, I just don't think they're right for each other."

"What's that to mean? They seemed very happy together."  
"Shh, I think they're coming back in," Molly warned urgently.

Roy and Ginger came back in, said goodnight to Molly and Henry then left the kitchen.

"What I mean," Molly continued quietly, "is that they're so different…"

"Well Molly, opposites attract. Besides, as different as they may seem to be, they are the same in something of great importance; they both love each other."

"How can you be sure it's really love?" she scoffed.

"Molly, I saw it in his eyes, and I saw it in hers; now really, don't you feel sour towards the poor girl just because she's stealing Roy from you."

"Hmph."

"Promise to get to know her before you decide to hate her?"

"Promise," she sighed.

The Professor led Ginger to her bedroom then handed her suitcase her.

"There's a bathroom down the hall on the left. Do you need anything else?"

"No I don't think so."

"What did you think?"

"Of your parents? I like them; your dad has the same dry sense of humor that you have, and your mother is very polite, though I don't think she liked me much."  
"Oh, she just doesn't know you yet. But once she does, she'll like you. I promise."

"Okay, I'll take your word; but I can't stop thinking about what you said about bringing me home to mother that one time on the island. Goodnight," she said, blowing him a kiss.

"Goodnight."

The days that went by in a relaxed manner, filled with talking and laughter. Roy would show Ginger around the town, telling her stories of his childhood. Occasionally, she would meet some of his old cronies and their families. Without her consent, Molly found the gap between her and Ginger being broken down almost to the point of friendship, and at the end of two weeks, she was sad to see them go.

"Promise to call us the moment you decide when the wedding will be," Molly instructed.

"Okay."

"And come visit us for Christmas."

"We will."

They hugged goodbye then got in the car, heading back to the airport.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:**

A day later, they were in Los Angeles. They were driving through town towards Ginger's parents' house which was on the out skirts of Beverly Hills.

"Okay, second one on the left," Ginger instructed.

He parked the car and drummed his fingers on the wheel.

"Nervous?"

"A little bit, maybe," he responded.

"Don't be; they'll love you."

"Who, your mom and dad?"

"Yes," she sighed, "You must be pretty nervous."

"Well, what about your sister?" Roy asked, thinking of how Ginger never talked to fondly of her.

"Well, um. Gina doesn't like any one anyway, so don't worry about her," she explained matter-of-factly. "Besides, I doubt she'll be around.

Reluctantly, the Professor got out of the car and walked to the door with Ginger. After breathing once more, he knocked on the door.

His first impression of the woman who opened the door was that he was looking at an older version of his wife to be. After recovering quickly from the shock, he realized it wasn't so silly an idea. She resembled Ginger in that she was tall, shapely, and had green eyes. Her wavy hair was a dark auburn and went down to under her shoulder blades, and her smile was certainly disarming. The Professor was having a hard time figuring out how old she really was.

"How are you honey?" she asked as she hugged her daughter.

"I'm fine mom," Ginger replied. "Mom, I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Roy Hinkley."

"How do you do?" he asked, extending his hand.

"Well I do just fine. How are you?" she responded cheerfully, shaking his hand.

"Fine, thank you."

"Well, don't just stand outside all day you two. Come in so I can get to know my future son in law. You know, I always wanted a son. Never got one though, instead I got stuck with two girls! Uh! Cat fights all the time, why that's all you'd ever hear!" she exclaimed, jokingly.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad… until, well, until the true Gina was revealed," Ginger testified.

"You be nice to your sister. But I suppose I'm being quite rude myself; why, I didn't even bother to introduce myself properly. My name's Norah, and you can call me whatever you please; um, as long as it's appropriate. Ginger, do you remember Hugo Fletchling?"

"Yes, I think so. Wasn't he that kind of crazy guy who was always trying to get alien romance movies to sell?"

"That's the one. Well, anyway, he finally did get one to sell and your father's working in the set department. He'll probably get back around seven."

"Oh, alright. You'll like him Roy. Much more sane and intellectual than mom here," Ginger teased.

"Don't make fun of me! If one's in Show Biz, they can't possibly be sane or intellectual."

"As far as I'm concerned, modeling is not a field of Show Business."

"Well I live in California and that's good enough for me. Oh, well please don't let me continue to babble on. I want to know all about you Roy."  
"Well, I teach at the University of Cleveland. Um, I have a B. A. from USC, a B.S. from UCLA, an M.A from SMU, and a PhD from TCU."

Norah's eyes widened as she declared, "Now that's what I call intellectual. Please continue, I didn't mean to interrupt."

He did continue talking, until around seven, with several interruptions by Norah, until the door was opened by Ginger's father.

He was about the Professor's height but with broader shoulders. He had dark brown hair that revealed a touch of gray and blue eyes that held a look of indeed level-headedness and calamity. The Professor guessed this man was maybe almost sixty, but he wasn't sure.

"Hi Norah, hi Ginger, back in the area are you? And who do we have here?" he asked, staring quizzically at the Professor.

Both Roy and Ginger opened their mouths to speak, but Norah beat them to it, "Oh Tommy, this is Ginger's fiancé, Roy Hinkley. Isn't he just adorable?"

"Fiancé did you say? Well Mr. Hinkley, I'd like a word with you, privately."

"They walked out of the room leaving Ginger and Norah.

"So, you really like this fellow?" Norah asked.

"Yes, I do love him, very much. It surprised me at first, that I would love him. I mean, on the island, I knew I liked him… but I never thought I'd fall in love with him… Do you approve of him?"

"Very much. He's so much better than the guy Gina brought home before you were rescued. Ug! Luckily, she caught him with another woman, or maybe he caught her with another man, but anyway, they never got married."

"Well, on Gina's behalf, the guy I was dating before Roy was a real creep. You might have met him, Brian Marcus."

"Yeah, never did like that guy. But how's the movie with him going?"

"Well, thankfully, I've finished shooting my scenes."

They continued to talk until Roy and Thomas came back.

"How did it go?" Ginger asked Roy quietly as he sat down next to her.

"Ginger, this man is one of the last of the dying breed of gentlemen. I most highly approve of your engagement to him," Thomas announced.

The next two weeks were patterned out very much like the two weeks spent at the Professor's parents' house. The days were pent talking and laughing and everyone was sad to see the time come to an end.

"Are you sure you can't stay for another week?"

"I'm sure mom; we have to be down to Hawaii for a Christmas party."

"Well, call us when you know the official wedding date," she instructed.

"We will."

"Son, take care of my daughter," Thomas instructed, shaking Roy's hand firmly.

"I will sir," he promised.

They finished their goodbyes then Roy and Ginger drove off towards the airport. A day later, they were on a boat heading towards Honolulu Harbor.  
"So, did you like my parents?" Ginger asked.

"Yes, I did. You're father was very interesting to talk to. And your mother, well, she was," he paused to find the right word, "a very bubbly person. If it's not to bold to ask, I was curious, how old is she?"

"Um, mom is five years younger than dad, and he's a 58, so, she's fifty three."

"So she was 24 when she had you?"

"Yes, but don't hold that against her; she was the best mother anyone could ever have."  
"I'm not judging. Hmm, she doesn't look even fifty."

"On her behalf, thank you. She really liked you."

"Do you think so?"

"I know so."

They reached Honolulu Harbor around one and hurried to find the rest of the group.

"Do you know where the Skipper's boat is?"

"I'm afraid not."  
They continued to walk along the port until they heard Mr. Howell's distinct, cultured voice calling them. "Oh Ginger! Professor! Hold up there!"

The couple hurried up to catch up with Roy and Ginger when the latter two turned around in acknowledgment.

"My it's good to see familiar faces!" Mr. Howell declared, "How are you two?"

"Engaged," the Professor replied simply.

"Well congratulations my dear boy," Mr. Howell said, shaking the Professor's hand sincerely.

At the same time, Mrs. Howell was congratulating Ginger, "Oh my dear girl, congratulations. Oh we have a thousand things to plan."

While Mrs. Howell continued to list everything they needed to plan, the group went out in search for the rest of the party.

"Over here!" they heard the Skipper call out.

The made their way to the threesome quickly. Immediately, they exchanged hellos and hugs, jabbering on about what they'd been up to and such. When the excitement was dying down, MaryAnn turned to Ginger and asked in a confused manner, "Ginger, I thought you said you were going to bring your fiancé along."

"Yeah Ginger, we were looking forward to meeting him," Skipper announced.

"Looking into Roy's eyes and holding his hands, she said, "Go ahead, meet him."

"Are you joking?"

"She is neither joking nor prevaricating," the Professor answered Gilligan.

"Why, I can't believe it. That's wonderful!" MaryAnn exclaimed, beginning another round of congratulations and jabbering.

"Well folks, why don't we get on the boat before it gets dark out," Skipper suggested.

They boarded carefully, Mr. Howell commenting, "We must be insane to get on any boat you're sailing captain."

"Very funny Howell."

They passed the time singing Christmas carols and sharing stories. Once they arrived in the lagoon, they began dancing and celebrating. Around six, they sat down for a dinner of what else but fish and coconuts.

After they were finishing the last bites, MaryAnn stood up importantly, "Everyone, I'd like to make a special announcement. Gilligan, I've been dying to tell you this for almost a month now, but I wanted everyone to be here. Gilligan, there's going to be an addition to our household."

"What, is your mother coming to live with us?" he asked in that Gilligan sort of way.

"Um, no," she laughed, "I'm going to have a baby.

Everyone ran over to hug MaryAnn and congratulate her. Meanwhile, Gilligan fainted.

They finished the night dancing much later then they thought they would. Since it was so late, they decided to spend the night on the island.

After saying goodnight, each person walked away sleepily to his or her hut. But strangely, they were happier than they'd been in a very long time.


	16. Epilouge

**Epilogue**

The seven castaways sat around the radio on a starry Christmas Eve.

"_And snow is expected in the northeastern part of the country. Now a report from Honolulu. _

_Why! I don't believe this! After being rescued several months ago, it appears the seven castaways of the Minnow, have once again become lost at sea! An alert went out Tuesday the 22nd when they did not appear back in the harbor after leaving in the early afternoon Monday._

_Could it really be possible to get re-stranded? If they can somehow hear us, we wish them safety, and a melakamekimaka._

_No back to our cheery Christmas carols…"_

"Well, that's that," the Skipper said, flipping the radio off.

"Yet another Christmas on the island."

Everyone sat in silence, not breathing a word. After all, what was there to say? They were together in the one place they could all call home.

It didn't take more than a few weeks for the castaways to get readjusted to the life of the marooned. They repaired the huts where was needed and were thankful they'd forgotten to come back for their suitcases when they were rescued.

The wedding was planned to take place in a week down at the lagoon. Ginger couldn't recall a time span that seemed to last longer. Each second felt like a minute, each minute felt like an hour, each hour like a day, and each day was an eternity. Finally, after the longest week of her life, the wedding day finally arrived.

Ginger was pacing the floor of her former hut nervously.

"Ginger, relax," MaryAnn sighed. "And don't forget to breath."

"Thanks, how much longer before we can start?"

"Oh dear, my watch seems to have stopped," Mrs. Howell answered.

"It's five minutes since the last time you asked."

"Oh, can't we head down to the lagoon yet?"

"Yeah, I suppose the men are all ready for us."

"Nervous Professor?" the Skipper teased.

"I feel quite calm, thank you."

"Is it normal for someone so calm to be shaking so much?" Mr. Howell asked.

"Oh you gentlemen be quite! I doubt if you were so calm yourself on your wedding day!"

"No, I can't say I was," Mr. Howell replied.

"I sure wasn't!" Gilligan laughed.

"Yes, but the fact is Professor, it's you we're talking about! Afterall, who could imagine such a level-headed person as yourself getting so jittery."

"Well, I'm only human."

Mrs. Howell came up to them and asked, "Are you ready to begin the ceremony?"

"Yes, I believe so Mrs. Howell."

Ginger linked her arm with Mr. Howell's, who was once again standing in for the father, and let him lead her up the 'aisle' after the Skipper gave the opening.

She realized, after becoming a bit dizzy, that she was forgetting to breath. Inhaling slowly, she gazed fixedly on the solitary person on her mind.

Roy was gazing at Ginger, smiling. If he was any happier, he thought he'd explode. She took her place next him and his heartbeat quickened; as did hers. For the duration of the ceremony, not once did their eyes leave each other.

"Do you, Roy Hinkley, take this woman to be your wife; in sickness or in health, in good times or in bad, till death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you, Ginger Grant, take this man to be your husband; in sickness or in health, in good times or in bad, till death do you part?"

"I do."

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

As they kissed, the newly wedded couple both knew they were not making a mistake.

After all of the celebrating and hoopla had ended, Ginger found herself in Roy's arms, sitting next to the lagoon, with only the moon and the stars to provide light.

"Are you disappointed we couldn't have had the wedding back in civilization?" Roy asked, gently stroking her hair.

"No, are you?" she asked, lifting her head off of his shoulder as to look into his eyes.

"Not at all, I doubt I could have waited any longer. But, I just thought you might have been disappointed."

"Roy, as long as I'm with you, nothing can disappoint me."

"Do you really mean that?"

"With all my heart."

"I love you," Roy replied before kissing her.

They spent the rest of the night out under the stars; sharing dreams and kisses. They were so happy. And why not, they had reason enough to be; they were together… finally together… forever…


End file.
